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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29369547">frozen over</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/moth_writes/pseuds/moth_writes'>moth_writes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blizzards &amp; Snowstorms, Getting Together, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:28:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,436</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29369547</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/moth_writes/pseuds/moth_writes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon follows Baz to the Catacombs right before a snowstorm hits. They're trapped.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>129</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>frozen over</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is based off a tumblr post i saw that was like<br/>person a: your hands are cold i'll hold them for you<br/>person b: my lips are cold too<br/>person a: *slaps hand over b's mouth*</p><p>And yeah, it wouldn't leave me alone so I wrote it instead of working on any of the six events i am also doing.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>BAZ</p><p> </p><p>I'm stuck in a blizzard with Simon Snow and I have no idea how I got here.</p><p> </p><p>Intellectually, logically, I know.</p><p> </p><p>I went to the catacombs. (To feed.)(To visit her.)</p><p> </p><p>I wanted a quick visit. Long enough to catch a few rats, drain them and pretend I'm not made of death and stolen blood and lies when I whisper at her headstone.</p><p> </p><p>And he followed me. Simon Snow, courageous idiot. Disaster boy.</p><p> </p><p>Absolute nightmare.</p><p> </p><p>And we're stuck, now. The only door to the catacombs I know of is unbudging. </p><p> </p><p> The blizzard everyone's been carrying on about must have hit-the weather spells can only hold up to so much, and this happens a couple times a year. </p><p> </p><p>The temperature drop is abrupt and terrible.</p><p> </p><p>I'm cold. Freezing down to my bones and the hollow space where my soul was. My teeth are chattering, clicking together so hard I'm half afraid they'll chip. (If my fangs pop, it's guaranteed.)(They’re harder than my regular teeth.)</p><p> </p><p>I retreat a few halls in where the chill isn't so bad. Snow follows me, grumbling.</p><p> </p><p><em> Stay there</em>, I want to snap. Yell like he deserves. Flash my fangs and make him cower.</p><p> </p><p>(He wouldn't.)(He's too stupidly brave for it.)</p><p> </p><p>(And I'm weak. Too weak to hurt him.)</p><p> </p><p>I slump against the far wall and he follows, sitting a few feet away.</p><p> </p><p>He's just out of reach, I think. I could shift over, just a little. Could reach out and touch.</p><p> </p><p>I could end eighth year early. Pin him down, fill up on his blood and his warmth until I've taken it all. Until he's turned as cold as I am.</p><p> </p><p>(I'd still weep over his corpse.)(He'd be a beautiful one.)</p><p> </p><p>(I'll never live to see it.)</p><p> </p><p>I'm particularly daft, today. Daft, desperate, damned. Whichever works.</p><p> </p><p>I pull my two jumpers and blazer tighter and lean my head down.</p><p>
  <br/>
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</p><p>SIMON</p><p> </p><p>It's too cold.</p><p> </p><p>My toes are numb, and I can't feel my fingers either. Baz must be ten times worse—he's cold even when it's warm out.</p><p> </p><p>He isn't even shivering anymore. Just sitting there hunched over.</p><p> </p><p>I'm half afraid he's dead. But I can see his hair shift as he breathes, so I know he isn't. </p><p> </p><p>Yet.</p><p> </p><p>He might if he stays in this cold. (Can vampires get hypothermia?)(I don't really want to find out. I've never seen Baz sick, and with how he acts healthy—or close to it, at leastVI don't think I'd survive it in one piece.)</p><p> </p><p>He can't die now, even if he can get sick. Our battle isn't here yet, and only I'm allowed to kill Baz.</p><p> </p><p>I hold that in my mind—I have to keep him alive for our battle—as I scoot a little closet. Then a bit more, until we’re pressed shoulder to shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>He's stiff next to me, and sneering when I look at him. </p><p> </p><p>“I don't need your pity, Snow,” he spits. It’d be more impressive if he wasn’t turning blue. I tell him so and he scowls but doesn’t reply. He knows it’s true.</p><p> </p><p>We sit in silence for another moment before I remember what I was going to say. (He’s distracting.)(Could be plotting anything.)</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” I say. He blinks at me. “The big bad Baz Pitch doesn't need my help. You've told me before.”</p><p> </p><p>He starts to say something, but I continue before he can. “But you do need my body heat, you bloody stubborn bastard. You're ice.”</p><p> </p><p>He huffs but doesn't argue. I lean just slightly further into him and he turns his head away.</p><p> </p><p>I don't know how long we sit there for. I'm not thinking, just listening to Baz breath, and it’s almost...nice. (Except for the cold, I mean.)(This would be bloody perfect if it weren't freezing down here.)</p><p> </p><p>What am I thinking? This is Baz Pitch, my rival, my nemesis. (Except not really, because the Humdrum is.)(Because he's just a boy. I'm starting to realize that, I think.)</p><p> </p><p>I don't know what to do, but Baz is shivering again. I throw caution to the wind—not literally, I've had the spell used against me and it's bloody <em>brutal</em>—and wrap an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer.</p><p> </p><p>He's too stunned to struggle.</p><p> </p><p>At first.</p><p> </p><p>I can tell exactly when he starts thinking again. He’s stiff against my side, and when I glance at him he’s staring at the shreds of a tapestry hanging across from us.</p><p>
  <br/>
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</p><p>BAZ<br/><br/></p><p>He’s the only warm thing here.</p><p> </p><p>I keep myself tense and hold myself as far away as I can with his arm around my shoulders. <em> (His arm is around me.) </em></p><p> </p><p>I’m seriously weighing the merits of just giving in and melting into his warmth. (He’s so warm, and I’m always so cold.)(I used to think, in my weaker moments, how perfect that would be. We’d balance each other out. It’s hopelessly poetic.)</p><p> </p><p>“C’mon, Baz,” Snow huffs. “It’s freezing down here. We both need the body heat, so—” he gestures wildly with his free hand “—just suck it up and come here.”</p><p> </p><p>I glare as venomously as I can, with this. He’s lying. I can’t warm him up—I can’t warm anything. I’m too cold for that, always.</p><p> </p><p>I don’t argue. He’s right, I need the warmth. (It must be well into the negatives down here.)(I can’t even hear anything scuttling around, and this area is <em> always </em>full of rats.)</p><p> </p><p>I let myself surrender, this once.</p><p> </p><p>It’s our last year.</p><p> </p><p>I’m going to take everything I can until he kills me.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>SIMON</p><p> </p><p>He relaxes against me and it’s like he’s collapsing in on himself.</p><p> </p><p>I pull him a little closer and he puts his head on my shoulder. It’s strange.</p><p> </p><p>My stomach is feeling odd, like I swallowed something with wings. Or like I drank my tea too soon and it burned me on the way down.</p><p> </p><p>I don’t think about it. I’ll deal with it later, if I have to.</p><p> </p><p>I notice his hands, then, tucked against his legs in tight fists. I frown.</p><p> </p><p>“Your hands are cold,” I say belatedly. He shifts his head to look at me and I can just see the corner of his sneer.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Snow,” he drawls. “It <em> is </em>in the negatives, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”</p><p> </p><p>I snort and ignore the scorn. I reach down and take one of his hands in mine, fit us together like puzzle pieces. I bring his hand to my mouth and exhale as warmly as I can. His fingers flex in mine.</p><p> </p><p>This doesn’t feel like something enemies do. </p><p> </p><p>I don’t want to be enemies.</p><p> </p><p>So we won’t be, I decide. I’ll convince him of it later, when we’re warmed up.</p><p> </p><p>Baz leans back and looks at me. I look at him.</p><p>
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</p><p>BAZ</p><p> </p><p>I can’t stop myself from staring at him. </p><p> </p><p>He’s still holding my hand, looking back at me with his plain blue eyes.</p><p> </p><p>I don’t know what’s happening.</p><p> </p><p>I throw my last bit of dignity away.</p><p> </p><p>It’s our last year. He’ll kill me soon, and then I won’t have to live with the embarrassment this is about to give me. (And I can die happy, with the memory of my head on his shoulder and his fingers through mine.)</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>SIMON</p><p> </p><p>Baz is staring at my mouth. </p><p> </p><p>“You know,” he says, “my lips are cold too.”</p><p> </p><p>I swallow a grin as I bring my free hand up to hover near his face. I have to turn a bit to do it without letting go of him, but I don't care. He leans a bit closer, eyes drifting shut just the tiniest bit. </p><p> </p><p>I rest my hand against his cheek for a moment and feel the smooth skin against my palm. Baz sighs and blinks slowly.</p><p> </p><p>I slide my hand over and clamp it over his mouth, grinning at him. He makes a muffled noise, half offense and half-disappointment? as he glares at me. I can feel his scowl against my skin.</p><p> </p><p>“You said your lips were cold,” I tell him and I can't stop the half smile that tugs at the corners of my mouth. “I'm just helping you out, Baz.”</p><p> </p><p>He huffs and it's strange against my palm, cooler than breath should be. </p><p> </p><p>He starts to speak from behind my hand, but I don't let him.</p><p> </p><p>I pull my hand away and catch his lips with mine before he can say anything.</p><p> </p><p>I’ll think about this, talk about this, later.</p><p> </p><p>I have more important things to do now.</p><p> </p><p>(I was right. We aren’t enemies, not anymore.)(I like this better.)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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